Shattered Souls
by SpikeFan4Life95
Summary: Spike happens upon a more distraught than usual Drusilla in a church in L.A., and as if his past coming back to haunt him wasn't enough, he has to deal with her recently ensouled self - notably more insane than usual. Can her shattered mind be redeemed? Or will Spike and Angel be forced to get rid of her soul, or finally give her the peace she seeks?


A/N: Apologies for any silly mistakes - I'm typing this at 3am because the idea woke me from a dead sleep. Also - short chapter, I'm lame, I know. No worries - there's more to come.

Normally a church wasn't exactly Spike's idea of a good time. He may have had his soul, but that didn't mean he was a soddin' saint or something. Nah, he was on a night time patrol in L.A. when he picked up on familial vibes. He knew these well enough - and considering tall, dark, and broody was back at the Wolfram and Hart office doing what he did best (being a self - righteous 'my soul is better than your soul' arse) - that his sire was the only explanation. It seemed like Drusilla was in town. Why she was in a church? Well he was about to find out. She was evil, yeah, but he still cared about her enough to not want her at Angel's mercy - he was still mighty pissed about the soulless shenanigans they'd had back in ol' SunnyD.

Spike pushed open the heavy doors to the church warily - he wasn't sure what to expect and after his temporary bout of insanity he wasn't exactly a fan of them. Though, he wasn't exactly fond of churches anyways. The whole 'eternal torment and damnation' bit was quite off-putting to a vampire. Not to mention that priests burned on the way down. Too much holiness for a vamp or somethin'. He'd never understood how Angelus had a thing for nuns back in the day. The novelty, he supposed.

He shook his head to clear his wandering thoughts and his footsteps echoed on the wooden floor as he entered the dark church. It wasn't completely dark though. Up ahead, past all the pews, the area was lit up with candles, and despite sensing her, Spike was still surprised to catch sight of the dark-haired beauty who'd played such a large role in his unlife. Drusilla. Just as nutty as usual if the crazy babbling he could hear from his place by the front of the church said anything. He took a few more steps forward and watched as Dru tensed.

"My little William, poor sweet William had his innocence ripped away just like me. We were very naughty children, and deserve no supper before bed," she bemoaned in a tremulous voice. It was enough to make Spike's brows furrow. This didn't sound like her usual mutterings. For one, she sounded upset rather than pleased at considering herself naughty, but there was also something . . . Off about her expression and she was hovering awfully close to the basin of Holy water. Spike closed the distance between them and ended up just a few feet away from her before she spoke again. "You're clean now though - cleaner than I am. Haven't said my prayers before bed," she wailed suddenly, clutching at her chest.

Spike furrowed his brows. She was giving him a headache already. "Not exactly the praying type, luv. Soul or no soul. Mind cuttin' to the chase here?"

Drusilla whipped towards him, her flowing dress tattered at the bottom and he was just noticing her wild, unkempt hair sticking out haphazardly instead of neatly brushed. She was paler than usual, and her waif-like thinness had turned into a terrifyingly low weight. Her bones practically jutted out from her. Tears stained her cheeks as she opened her mouth to sob out another response. "But I _can't. _No cutting, it didn't work. Clawing and scraping didn't either. It _burns._ I just wanted to be clean, I wanted to be pure, but it hurts, Spike. Make it go away. I don't want to burn," she cried, her hands hovering just over the holy water. "I just want to be pure."

Before the blond could stop her, she plunged her frail hands into the water. What followed next was an ear-splitting scream and the sound of sizzling flesh. Spike gaped at her as he finally put together her insane rambling. She had a soul. He didn't allow himself to ponder on it any longer, instead he rushed forward and roughly pulled back the crazy vampiress as she screamed in protest. Spike wrapped his arms completely around her, honestly frightened he would break her, and she thrashed in his grip as they tumbled to the floor.

"NO! I want to be pure! The evil needs burned out. Oh, but there's so much . . . Puppies, and children, and homeless men. These hands and this mouth have torn, and clawed, and I don't want to be evil anymore, William. Make it go away. Please. It hurts. Let me burn for my sins!" She screamed again, lunging forward and trying to break out of his grip and reach the holy water again despite her already ravaged hands. Spike held her back though. He hated to see her like this, but he couldn't just let her kill herself.

"Sorry, poodle. No burnin' and eternal torment tonight. How's about a nap instead?" Spike always loved a bit of violence, but he cringed when he hit her with a fierce uppercut and knocked her out. There was no way he could deal with this situation alone. Angel was gonna have to own up to his mistakes and help him help Dru out. It was the least Captain Forehead could do. With a sigh, Spike hefted the extremely light weight over his shoulder and walked out of the church, grimacing when he noticed the blood and burned hunks of flesh in the basin of Holy water on his way out. The priest would sure be in for a surprise tomorrow. And Angel was in for a surprise tonight. Spike hurried back to Wolfram and Hart, wondering how on earth he always found himself in these messes.

A few blocks away, Spike pulled out his cell phone and dialed 'McBroody Pants' on his phone, waiting for a response. A few rings later and a groggy and more than grumpy Angel answered. "It's four in the morning, Spike. What the hell do you want? If the answer is that you just wanted to annoy me, congratulations you did it." Spike chuckled despite the current situation.

"That's always my goal, but this time? Well we've got a problem on our hands. A Drusilla-shaped problem."


End file.
